Families First: A Post-Apocalyptic Next-World Series Volume 6 Battle Grounds Page 4

  In hindsight, he would have changed his red shirt from this morning for something more subtle that a little girl might not recognize. Returning the half-mile back to the lake took longer than before, staying completely off the road and in the tree line.

  The Airstream completely blocked his view of the men and children he had seen fishing before, and he couldn’t be sure if they had moved on.

  Once close—maybe 50 yards, he thought, to the lake’s edge—he got back on to the road, pretending to be out for an afternoon stroll.

  His hand lay on the butt of his pistol, resting his finger on the trigger. How many videos had he seen of so-called experienced guys shooting themselves accidentally? He had even had a few in his court years ago.

  He opted to keep his hand off of the revolver until the last second. After all, having already taken a practice shot towards the Sheriff back in Weston, he was kicking himself now for lack of follow-through.

  “This time, I’ll unload the whole spinny thing, whatever it’s called, into him. And she, that no-good Kate, better not get in my way,” he whispered.

  * * * *

  Approaching the trailer, still 20 yards out, voices could be heard talking but he couldn’t make out the words.

  His hands were sweaty and his breathing intensified, hearing it in his head. Woosh Woosh, the thump of his heartbeat, seemed all around him, like the start of a bass guitar at a rock concert.

  Boom! Boom! Boom! rang in his head, as he approached the side of the trailer.

  “That’s him!” screamed the little girl. “The man in the red shirt!” she cried.

  Judge Lowry still couldn’t see anything and ducked under the trailer, only seeing jean-covered legs, some big and others small. He worked his pistol out of his pants waist, fumbling and dropping it onto the dusty ground. His hands were sweaty and felt like they were covered in dish liquid. Feet shuffled and voices called out to each other, with his old friend telling everyone to stand back. This is it! the Judge thought. The showdown that never happened.

  Little legs disappeared from the under-trailer view but not his. Cowboy boots—the same pair he had worn since the Judge could remember. He flashed back to a movie or a book, maybe where the shooter was under an 18-wheel trailer and shot the leg of his opponent, dropping him and allowing for the final kill shot. It seemed like a long shot but the only one left. Aiming for the right boot midway down, he held his breath and pulled the trigger for the first time in earnest. Boom! echoed under the truck, much louder than he suspected. His ears rang, and the boots didn’t move. He fired again, hitting the left boot while aiming once again for the right.

  “What the...” he said aloud, his ears ringing as he watched the boot fall over, empty.

  He breathed heavily and panicked, not knowing what to do, having more rounds but not remembering how many. Frantically he looked up and down the underside of the trailer for a way out. Shadows crisscrossed the ground on one side, moving the Judge towards the other.

  “Nice try, Judge,” came the booming voice he had known for years and even had nightmares about. “You should have stayed away. I was going to let you tuck tail and run back to Pennsylvania, but then that little girl told me a story of a man who caught fish and threw them back into the lake while the children starved. I knew only a bastard like you would let that happen. So, come on out and let’s finish this like men.”

  Judge Lowry panicked, sweating, and dropped the pistol again.

  “Don’t shoot,” he cried. “I’m coming out.”

  “Throw the gun out on the ground,” came the command from the Sheriff.

  The Judge could see himself shot down right here or hanging from a noose in Weston after next Saturday’s festivities, in front of the entire town that used to fear and respect him. Neither scenario allowed him to go home.

  “I’m stuck,” he said, shuffling around and buying time to think.

  He could now see two sets of legs from under the trailer, one set larger than the other.

  “You have five seconds to come out, Judge. One, two, three...”

  He fired at the legs he thought to belong to his old friend and new foe. Crack! Crack! Crack! as he fired wildly but in slow motion, thinking he may blow his eardrums.

  He fired until he heard the click, and then pulled the trigger twice more.

  He couldn’t hear anything—like after the only concert he had ever been to. Cher rocked the house, as far as he was concerned, but he wouldn’t be able to hear properly for two days after.

  There was silence, followed by Sheriff Johnson dropping straight face-first to the ground, like a boxer being knocked out on his feet. His head, turned towards the Judge, told the story. Blood on his face ran bright red and he didn’t make a sound.

  How did I do that? thought Judge Lowry. “I think I’ve killed him,” he said aloud, not knowing what to do next.

  Staring at the open eyes of the lifeless man, Judge Lowry half expected him to jump up, say “Boo!” or something else, to show it was a trick.

  “Come on out, Judge. I have a question for you,” came the familiar voice of a female.

  He slid out slowly, shielding his eyes, looking towards the sun. Rising cautiously, his empty pistol pointed towards the ground.

  “Go ahead and drop that, Judge; it’s empty anyway,” said Kate, pointing hers at his chest.

  “So, let me get this straight,” he replied, getting some confidence back and hoping to make a deal. “I killed your boyfriend, and you’re going to kill me?”

  “He was my fiancé,” she replied, “and do you really think you shot him in the head from under the trailer?”

  He paused, not quite computing. It was, after all, the first time he had ever fired a gun.

  “So, if I didn’t shoot him, then...”

  “You getting warmer, Judge. Now, for my question: How would you feel about a female Sheriff?”

  “I don’t know. I mean…I’m not sure it would be the best...”

  “Let me rephrase that,” Kate said. “How would you feel about not dying today, getting a ride back to Weston, resuming your old post in the Courthouse, and getting me elected Sheriff?”

  “When you put it like that, it makes more sense, for sure,” he replied. “But why? Everyone knew you were already calling the shots behind the scenes. Why not just stay in your lane? I mean, you were engaged, right?”

  “I was, but to the wrong man. Besides, why call the shots, as you say, from behind the scenes when I can do it from inside my jailhouse? I was planning on doing it anyway but was going to let him get some fishing in first. Kind of like giving a terminal dog a steak before bringing him to the vet to be put down. You, however, provided me the perfect distraction, so here we are,” she added, pulling out everything of value or that could identify the Sheriff, including his weapon, belt, and badge from the body.

  “But you never liked me,” replied the Judge. “You said this town didn’t need a judge.”

  “Not exactly. I don’t care about you one way or another, but a town needs both a Sheriff and a Judge—everybody knows that! Where’s your stuff?”

  “In the bushes up the road—if it’s still there, that is.”

  “Where’s the rest?”

  “That’s it,” he said. “It’s all I own now… But what if I wasn’t here and we never saw each other again?”

  “Where else would you be besides in your cabin up here?” she said. “I figured we would run into you sooner or later, and sooner it was.”

  “How would you know about the cabin? I’ve never told anyone.”

  “Your secretary, the one who wrote all of the checks for your bills for years, including a mortgage payment on the cabin you just told me you didn’t have. Now turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  “Wait, I thought we...”

  She pointed to the families staring coldly at the scene in front of them.

  “Is this the man?” she asked them.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the littl
e girl. “He’s the one who wouldn’t give us any fish.”

  “He shot this man, and I’ll make sure he’s punished for it,” said Kate, wondering if they saw more than that.

  She opened the back door of the truck and helped Judge Lowry get inside.

  “Ma’am,” asked one of the fathers. “What about the body?”

  “Leave it,” she said, as she drove away.

  * * * *

  “Let’s pick up your stuff, Judge—all of it,” Kate said, driving back up the road.

  “When do I get these cuffs off?” he asked.

  “When we get to your place, and not a second before… Imagine how happy the townsfolk will be when you and I host a meal for everyone with all the provisions I’m sure you have in there!”

  “Take a right on the second dirt road coming up. Then it’s the third cabin on the left. There’s a turnaround just beyond it for the trailer… And just so we’re on the same page, who was the right guy?”

  “Not you,” she replied, stopping right in front of his soon-to-be-empty cabin. “I’ll keep your pistol, and you can ride up front,” she told him, taking his handcuffs off and helping him empty his cabin of anything valuable, now belonging to her citizens.

  “Go on! Get out of here, loudmouth!” called out his neighbor next door.

  “You will be doing me a big favor, Kate, if you put two bullets into his house before we leave.”

  “Stick to the plan,” she said, acting put out. But if it were her the neighbor was talking to, she would have emptied an entire magazine in his general direction.

  “We’ll need one story, simple and believable, and an election in the next week,” Kate told the Judge. “And one more thing—don’t ever lie to me again!”

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  Weston, Colorado

  Kate pulled straight up to the jailhouse, with three deputies coming out to greet them.

  One look into the open driver’s-side window had them confused and reaching for their weapons.

  “Easy, boys,” said Kate, telling the Judge to stay in the truck.

  “There was a terrible accident,” she said, forcing tears down her cheeks but maintaining the confidence and composure she would need, moving forward. “The Sheriff was fishing when it happened. He took that inflatable tube he always used and went out in the middle of the lake. I was watching him with my binoculars, and he just disappeared—the whole tube. The Judge and I both saw it.”

  She paused, thinking the whole thing sounded like a badly thought-out made-up story that was out now, for better or worse.

  “We were told by Sheriff Johnson to shoot on site if we saw Judge Lowry in town again,” said the lead deputy.

  “I know he said that. We all met this morning, the three of us. It’s why he and I went out to the lake in the first place—to meet with the Judge and see if we could fix the problem and balance this town out again.”

  “It was better before all this mess,” the deputy agreed, “but where’s his body?”

  “Drowned. He went under and never came back up,” she said with conviction, like a true widow. “So, unless you feel like diving Lake Trinidad, he’ll be buried under water.”

  “What about the post—the Sheriff position, I mean, and our jobs? We’ve got a few prisoners here since you left town. Is the Judge going to fire us for bringing him in the other day?”

  “Hold the prisoners until I get the whole story and tell your families not to worry. I’ll see to it you all keep your jobs,” she said, almost smiling as the three deputies looked relieved and apparently bought her story hook, line and sinker. “By the way, we will be having an election within the next week for Sheriff; I’m expecting your votes,” she said like a boss, walking out the door. “Let’s get you over to the Courthouse,” she said to Judge Lowry.

  “Did they buy the story?” he asked, not sure they would.

  “Like a house on fire,” she said, smiling for the first time today.

  “What about James?” asked the Judge.

  “It doesn’t matter. After the election, he works for me,” she said.

  “And me?” he asked.

  “We work together, you and I, but always remember that I liked the Sheriff more than I like you. Put me on the ballot and find some loser to make it look legit and stop telling your secretary everything; you know she’s just going to tell me. We will feed the town lunch on the square in two days, and I’ll bring your most generous provisions. Let’s get the word out and announce the upcoming election. Any questions?”

  “When do I go back to work?”

  “Why, tomorrow, sir. I hear we have a few prisoners in the jailhouse as we speak. Let’s meet there at, say, 8 a.m., like old times.”

  “Almost,” he replied, digging in his pocket for the Courthouse keys he swore he would never use again.

  * * * *

  James got the call on the radio from his deputy friend just before supper. “They both are meeting with all the deputies tomorrow morning at 8 a.m.,” he told James.

  “Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” James replied, with Jason overhearing the conversation. “Thanks for the heads-up. We will be there also, but I won’t tell them how we knew about it,” James added, calming his old friend’s fears of snitching on his new boss, or bosses.

  He radioed David with the news, not wanting him to hear it first at Mark’s follow-up appointment.

  “I don’t think it will change anything with regard to the town expansion,” James told him, adding, “only who is running the circus.”

  * * * *

  James and Jason waited until after dinner to discuss the news with their wives. Both Janice and Lauren admitted it was shocking news, with a litany of unanswered questions.

  “Where’s the body? Are you even sure he’s dead?” asked Janice.

  “How did Kate just happen to run into the Judge?” asked Lauren before James could answer Janice. “I thought they didn’t like each other.”

  “I hear he’s in the lake, drowned. No body was recovered, and I don’t know how the Judge fits into it all—or Kate, for that matter,” said James, answering all questions with one statement.

  “Jason and I will go to the meeting tomorrow and maybe take a drive down to the lake after and see if we can find any clues to what happened. It’s a long shot, I know, but it’s worth a few hours of our time.”

  * * * *

  James and Jason were the first to show up at the jailhouse at 7:15 a.m.

  “They will ask, Jason, why we’re here, and I’ll tell them an old friend from town heard about what happened and radioed me about it. I’m sure half the town has heard something by now.”

  “Then what?” questioned Jason.

  “Then we hear what Judge Lowry’s, and I guess now Kate’s, plans are and see if we can get some info on where they were. Nobody can know, though, if we go check out the lake after. We have a ranch day, and that’s all they need to know.”

  “Okay, I get it,” Jason replied. “But do you think it’s some sort of love triangle, like on those Dateline shows we used to watch?”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s even more complicated this time,” replied James, “and that’s why I want us to be on the front end of this.”

  Judge Lowry showed first, not hesitating to come right up and talk to James.

  “Hey there, buddy,” he said, as if nothing had ever happened. “I had one hell of a ride home after leaving your house last week.”

  “I heard about that,” James replied. “You gave those old boys quite a chase, I hear.”

  “That I did!” he replied. “Cost me a few nights in the clink, but it was worth it. Anyway, I’m back from my fishing trip and ready to get back to work.”

  “I heard you left town but hadn’t heard the fishing part,” said James, digging deeper but still in a casual tone.

  “Caught a couple of beauties down off Long Canyon…well, I mean all over, really,” he backtracked quickly. “Must have fis
hed around most of the lake. Anyway, I guess you guys are here for the meeting?”

  “I don’t know about any meeting. We just heard you were back in town, and something happened to Sheriff Johnson,” said James. “Figured we would come by this morning before ranch work and get the story firsthand. Get just one or two people down the line, and the stories can change completely.”

  “Makes sense,” replied the Judge with a sly grin. “I’ll let Kate tell it to you. I’m sure she will be here soon. It’s a darn shame about the Sheriff—just tragic,” he added, as straight-faced as a happy Judge could, walking inside the open jailhouse door.